


Some New Kids, Huh?

by Syntherapsidae



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Bureau of Time Travel (Milo Murphy's Law), Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syntherapsidae/pseuds/Syntherapsidae
Summary: Two characters meet for the "first" time getting partnered together.Mostly just writing this as an exploration of how BoTT might work (even though I don't have any experience working in any branch of government), and also to maybe not go insane





	Some New Kids, Huh?

**Author's Note:**

> most of this was written at like 1:30-2 am so don't get your hopes up too high lol
> 
> (but seriously tho if you have any suggestions/ideas/neat little facts for me to chew on leave a comment! :p)

**RECRUIT NUMBER: 73708**  
**NAME: GRET MARIA BOLLEINN**  
**DOB: 02/20/2152**  
**COO: U.S.A [IL]**  
**HEIGHT: 152.4cm/5'0"**  
**...**

The man on the other side of the desk - Block, according to his nametag - sighed impatiently, waiting for the other recruit - 73795, he'd said. The stare he was giving the door shoved her further down into her seat. She tried to take her mind off it. 73795 - they must have taken the same train she had on sign-up day. Wonder what stop they got on at… her own, even?

After a minute or two that lasted for months, the recruit came barrelling in, panting and flushed. Stuck to his shoe was a piece of toilet paper. Well, when nature calls… she tried to hide a little smile. As he walked over and sat down and fished out his time-traveling permit, apologizing all the while, he tugged at the back of her brain, blurring out whatever Block was saying… She looked over at the page in his hand:

**RECRUIT NUMBER: 73795**  
**NAME: EVAN DAVID RYDDE**  
**DOB: 11/17/2151**  
**COO: U.S.A [IL]**  
**HEIGHT: 190.5cm/6'3"**  
**...**

Evan David Rydde… that name felt viscerally familiar…

  
Block cleared his throat, snapping her back to reality. "Alright, you two. Go down, get your cards from your HQ mailboxes, then hit up 2113-C for your basic gear and your car key. Got it? Don't fu- screw it up, huh?"Both recruits gave an immediate "Yessir!" before shuffling out of the door.

In line for the gear and keys, Gret finally managed to properly word what she couldn't earlier. "Davey Rydde, right? Lilic's stepbrother? Leyremond High Class of 2170?"

"Yeah! - Uh, you're… Casey Lyon's friend, right?"

"Well, more her sister Cassidy, but yeah! How've things been going?"

"Eh, same-old same-old. High school graduation, college, year off to try and train for…" He gestured around. "... all this."

Gret nodded. Before she could really respond, one of the women in the room ahead called out, "Rydde-Bolleinn? Rydde-Bolleinn, 73795 and 73708, Rydde-Bolleinn."

Davey mumbled something to the effect of "think that's us?" as they walked over. It was an effort not to snort a laugh.

They went through the motions; show identification cards, skim and sign waiver, take duffel bag of basic tools and gadgetry (which Gret eagerly scooped up and slung onto her shoulder) and the car keys (which Davey scooped up, mostly just to be in charge of one thing or another), and take up the tedious task of finding which car in this lot was theirs. A licence plate and a vague description do not, in fact, help all that much.

Finally, they found the damn thing. Gret slumped into the passenger seat, buckling in out of muscle memory, and began rummaging through the duffel bag. "Ranger. Scanner. Grappler. Dome shield. Baseball-bat pen. Localizer. Transporter. Intemp-comms - here's yours. Oh - you okay with driving? I would, but, uh… remember that one time that kid got lost in driver's ed? Went into like the next town over?"

"Yeah…? Don't tell me--"

"--yeah, that was me."

"Lovely."

"Thanks for the support, Dad," Gret half-joked. She dug around in her own purse. "You want a cheese stick?"

Davey thought a moment. Shrugged. "Yeah, alright. Thanks."

"'course. -- Think we're gonna get an assignment soon?"

Just then, almost as if on command, the intemp-comm screen built into the vehicle's dashboard lit up.


End file.
